WAS THAT FEAR I saw in Lord Tove’s eyes, when they flicked to Lady Mother? Did he know the chapter in Lakti history when his ancestors had been cowards?
“You expect me to grant one of the provisions of your victory before you win? The Bamarre aren’t allowed through the pass.”
He was afraid! But he couldn’t change my choice! His Lakti custom forbade it.
Sir Lerrin snorted.
“Beg— We’ll be in your custody, and there—”
Lady Mother broke in. “Tove, the rules of a match—”
“I concede. It will be where you say, Grandmother.” His face brightened. “This has proven to be an interesting day. I long to embrace my daughter again.”
That made my skin crawl.
Then Sir Lerrin and Lord Tove, with King Canute’s approval, agreed on a truce until the contest ended. Heralds would be sent along the length of the border. Our Bamarre children would be safe—temporarily.
We still had to name the people in our parties. Lord Tove named King Canute, Lady Mother, and Sir Noll. The last two had divided loyalties, but I thought I understood his thinking. Sir Noll would hope to get his son back, and Lord Tove believed Lady Mother wanted to find me as much as he did.
I named Sir Lerrin and Willem.
Lord Tove nodded. “My daughter’s deaf love. Who will be your third?”
I didn’t know anyone else. “I’ll stop at two.”
Lord Tove agreed to pause in Gavrel, which was along the way. “Certainly. You will want to bid farewell to your family.”
It would be farewell only if I lost. He meant to frighten me.
As I’d suspected, Drualt had been carried on a fast horse directly from Gavrel to the battle.
He was in his usual good spirits. “I was going to close Lord Tove’s visor and block his air so he couldn’t breathe. Wouldn’t that have been funny?”
I smiled weakly, glad he hadn’t had the chance to try it.
His face sobered. “I don’t know where my friends are.” He meant the others from Gavrel. “I was going to take care of them.”
“The Kyngoll will. You’re going home.”
Sir Lerrin found armor for me. The breastplate and pauldrons were loose, but the faulds were tight, because Aunt Nadira had a plump belly. The smallest gauntlets were too big to be useful, so my hands would have to be bare.
We left the next morning, all riding together—the Kyngoll, the Lakti, and Drualt and I. Sir Lerrin was accompanied by two of his knights and two archers, Lord Tove by three of each. Drualt shared my saddle, sitting between my legs, a squirmy passenger.
By agreement, only the parties to the match would cross when we reached the Eskerns.
As we rode, Lord Tove led his Lakti entourage in singing, meant, I was sure, to unnerve the rest of us.
“Our might strikes fear in fighters
When marching we draw nigh—
Push past the meek resistance—
Our enemy will die!”
Since the words didn’t mention the Lakti, we Bamarre and Kyngoll travelers joined in, too. Only Willem was silent. He still feigned deafness, though I knew he kept the shell tucked into his cap close to his ear.
At the end of the verse, in an effort to outdo one another, we all roared “will die!”
The villages and towns of the kingdom lay along its roads. We reached the first sign of rebellion on our second day, a red haze on the horizon. Bamarre field-workers had set their masters’ farms ablaze, as we were told by a delegation of worried Lakti householders.
If the fires were widespread, both the Lakti and the Bamarre were in for a hungry winter. Lord Tove whispered instructions to one of his knights, who rode back the way we’d come.
Troops would have to be drawn away from the war if it resumed. Though I was happy for the Kyngoll, I feared for the rebels.
The ride to Gavrel took four days. Rebellion had blown across the kingdom. We saw burning fields everywhere. In the lowlands, dams had been breached and farms flooded. The local Lakti met us at every town and village. Lord Tove always said aid was coming and rode on. King Canute never spoke at all.
Lady Mother’s eye was often on me. I think she longed for a private conversation—and so did I—but opportunity didn’t favor us. Sir Noll gazed at his son as often as Lady Mother looked at me. I wished I could interpret the meaning of his glance, but his face remained neutral.
Willem’s eyes often met mine. He couldn’t smile, because of his pretended gloom, but his glance was always soft. What other young man would continue to care for a girl in the shape of a crone?
As we rode, King Canute practiced his archery, littering the landscape with dead birds. He rarely missed, but when he did, he keened in a brief, painful wail.
When we stopped for the midday meal on our first day of travel, the king lowered his royal self next to me on the canvas that had been spread for us to sit on.
I jumped up, curtsied, and remained standing, uncertain what to do.
He gestured me down. “I like grandmothers,” he announced. “Mine was kind.”
I said I was honored and sat.
The king was often at my side, which seemed not to trouble Lord Tove. I decided he didn’t mind anything King Canute did, as long as he—Lord Tove—made policy.
Too bad the king’s mind was weak. He seemed gentle when not on the battlefield. His real enmity was directed against birds.
We reached Gavrel in the evening. Lord Tove and Lady Mother were met by the widow and the Ships, so Poppi had time to bring Prince Bruce to stay with another family. In our cottage, Poppi and Mama passed Drualt back and forth for embraces. I got almost my share as well, and a full allotment of hugs from Annet.
Drualt announced straight out, “Aunt Nadira is going to fence against Lord Tove. It’s a contest.”
They were horrified, even after I explained I’d proposed it only to save my brother. I described the agreement.
Poppi squinted. “You hope the monsters will give you an advantage?”
I nodded. “If we’re going to live there, why not win our freedom there?”
“I’ll be your third.” Annet made a wry face. “I’m used to serving you.”
She wouldn’t be argued out of it. She left us to tell Goodman Meerol, who was still recovering from his flogging.
Mama asked Sir Lerrin if she, Poppi, and Drualt might ride the rest of the way to the Eskerns with us. Sir Lerrin applied to Lord Tove for his consent. Gracious again, Lord Tove agreed and commandeered two of Gavrel’s three horses for the purpose. Mama and Poppi shared a steed. Annet sat her own, uneasily. Drualt continued with me.
Lady Mother’s eyes lingered as often on Mama as on me. I thought she was comparing methods of mothering.
In another four days the Eskerns rose ahead. We camped in a valley watered by a brook, where the Lakti had their base for the soldiers who patrolled the pass. The magic boot hadn’t taken me this way. We would leave the horses here and continue on foot.
The morning dawned hot. After a quick breakfast, we began to climb, just Lord Tove and I and our parties, each group with a donkey from the base. Drualt begged to come, too, but Mama and Poppi wisely wouldn’t hear of it.
The beasts, sure-footed and accustomed to these mountains, carried Lord Tove’s and my armor, weapons for us all, flasks of water, and food in case we were delayed returning. The narrow path was steep. Sometimes we had to clamber onto waist-high rocks. I helped Annet when she flagged, serving her for once.
“Darling,” Lord Tove said to Lady Mother, “the grandmother is a prodigy of strength.”
“Exceptional,” she agreed.
The morning was half over when, flushed and sweaty, we reached the pass, a notch in a cliff wall. The ten soldiers stationed on the rock shelf before the opening jumped to attention when they saw King Canute and Lord Tove.
We spent little time with them, all of us drawn to the crossing. The others blocked my view, so I looked up and saw only sky—no dragons or gryphons.
I wondered if specters could hide them from sight while we were still on this side.
Lord Tove entered the gap first and shouted, “The Lakti return!”
King Canute followed, then Lady Mother, who gestured for me to follow her. She meant to shield me! A lump rose in my throat.
I reached for Annet.
Each from the other drawing strength,
Two sisters of Bamarre, hand in hand,
Rising toward their longed-for land.